


the one where Eames always tries to lighten the mood

by healingmirth



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: inception_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-29
Updated: 2010-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/healingmirth/pseuds/healingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just a sketchy little thing, for the prompt: "Eames discovers that Arthur is extremely ticklish. Arthur is utterly mortified and embarrassed beyond words, but Eames thinks it's hilarious and indulges in tickling Arthur at inopportune moments."</p>
    </blockquote>





	the one where Eames always tries to lighten the mood

**Author's Note:**

> just a sketchy little thing, for the prompt: "Eames discovers that Arthur is extremely ticklish. Arthur is utterly mortified and embarrassed beyond words, but Eames thinks it's hilarious and indulges in tickling Arthur at inopportune moments."

The trick, Eames had discovered, was in setting the mood, or rather in not letting Arthur set it. On the days when he could convince Arthur that a little humor would not end them all in ruin, he'd turn into a giant blue fairy in a dream, or stand behind Ariadne and mimic her, or answer everything in a terrible German accent, and Arthur would crack a smile. Eames learned the new boundaries of how much he could prod before Arthur would shut him down, and though it was probably the work of a lifetime to make Arthur see the humor in their work while they were actually at it, Eames did feel like he was doing a fair job of changing the tone of their personal interactions to something less fraught.

They started eating meals together, or watching TV, especially if they were in a country where badly-dubbed imported shows made Arthur frown. Eames would make up stories about their fellow diners, or they'd mute the TV and try to reconstruct the original plot, or at least an original plot.

They'd laugh, and they'd kiss, and they'd laugh some more. Sometimes Arthur would be only half-dressed for hours at a time, and Eames could skip his fingers down to just below Arthur's ribs, and Arthur would shiver and squirm, and Eames' mouth would catch his gasps.

Sometimes they'd wrestle, and Arthur wouldn't really try to win, and Eames would cheat anyway, tickling Arthur's sides, or his feet if Arthur was kneeling so that they were within reach, and Arthur would laugh and gasp, and pin Eames's hands over his head, and the laughing would be put on hold for a bit, but could be counted on to return.

Someday, a day that Eames can picture only in hazy outline, Arthur will trust him enough to let go the reins on his body's reactions, and Eames will carry him through it. He'll fuck Arthur until he's boneless with it and kneel behind him, pull Arthur up onto his lap and bear his weight. He'll hold him there and stroke Arthur's thighs, feather-light, to feel Arthur twitch and clench around him. When he's wrung every ounce of reaction out of Arthur's body, when they've come and come down and curled around each other under the covers, Eames will tell Arthur how strong he is, and how much he loves him, and every word will be true.


End file.
